Notes translated into English:
Saturday 10 April 2004 7 pm
Cold wind from the west, the remains of ice floes on the shore. The seagulls are shrieking. Grey clouds rise in northwest. Only a moment a go the sun gave spring light. – The night might become cold. Is this clever? What strange Easter passion forces me to this sports endeavour? The mind rests when the eyes rest, but if the body and its bones are shivering and clattering of the cold that is far from rest. No meditation but exorcism! Now old devils, the evil spirits of las year will be banished once and for all…
Saturday 10 April 2004 9 pm
Only a moment ago the sky was filled with pinkish lint balls. Now it is almost empty, spacious, open. The wind has calmed down a little, maybe. A lonely swan is swimming towards the open sea. A few weeks ago, they were two diving between the shreds of ice. I think I would be happy to have a swan as my companion in the water by the shore. Vain, romantic! It keeps swimming determined, however, further away, hardly visible any longer. So be it. Soon, very soon it will be blue and then dark.
Saturday 10 April 2004 11 pm
Starry night – and the sea is filled with flickering lights. The orange lamps of the western harbour and the Pea Island (Hernesaari) are shining in northwest, even the ice floes reflect the gleam. The night is not dark but it is cold. Stumbling on the rocks feels strange at night, the proportions shift, memory distorts them, but the eyes adjust to darkness quite soon. Strange how the wind does not quiet…
Sunday 11 April 2004 1 am
The same stars, the same wind. A moment ago an illuminated ship was gliding by. The chugging of a motorboat is audible from somewhere, but no lights are visible. The traffic of the city sounds very near, nearer than in daytime. – The night is full of lights. The wind is cold, the sky clear and high. I do not know the stars, but there they are, all of them. Some could be satellites or even an airplane. – The moon is not visible. It should be a crescent, waning. – Five hours until daybreak. I am already waiting for the pale shimmer, a promise of warmth.
Sunday 11 April 2004 3 am
There is a faint mist in the air, a hint, or perhaps I imagine. The stars are as bright as before. In the south, there is a strange pale gleam, could it be Tallinn? The traffic of the city is even stronger now. Is somebody still driving a motorcycle. And church bells, sounding hollow, like some iron rolls. What else could it be? Am I hearing hallucinations, dreaming while awake. It feels like winter coming towards me, not spring. Cold. The surface of the snow patches is hard with ice.
Sunday 11 April 2004 5 am
It is already rosy in the east, a clear rose colour, and the sky is blue, no longer black. The border between the sea and the sky is visible anyway, without the flickering lights. The light increases each moment. – The wind has calmed down, slightly, although it does not feel like it, but the sound of the waves is milder. It is still clear, but the stars are turning pale. And cold. Now one can see that the surface of the water puddles is frozen. And the moon! A huge orange sail is rising in the south. Almost in time with the sun, but a little bit before…
Sunday 11 April 2004 7 am
The sun is already high, in the west the horizon is rosy, as a reflection. The birds have awoken to shriek. Two crows are pecking the frozen surface of a puddle. There is frost on the ground, most clearly visible on the mosses. The wet tussocks are now glazed with white powder. – The sun hits the western harbour and the Rowan Island (Pihlajasaari). They seem to be so very close. Despite it being early everything looks otherwise “normal”, familiar. This is how I have seen it before, or rather, this is what this shore is like “in reality”.
Sunday 11 April 2004 9 am
The sun is already warming a little. A strangely formed concave ice floe has drifted onto the shore, in fact a shred. The seagulls are shrieking incessantly. There is probably some other species in the group, too, some type of tern, or the like, because the shrieks are of two kinds – maybe even more. The frost has almost disappeared from the ground, but the frozen surface of the puddles is melting more slowly. The slow battle of spring – melting in the warmth of the day, freezing again in the cold at night, melting again – and melting always a little more. They say a human being is 90% water. Perhaps I am like a puddle, too – which finally evaporates totally.
Sunday 11 April 2004 11 am
Some haze or soft clouds have appeared in the sky. It is not covering the sun, but dims it like a light curtain. The wind has brought some ice floes on the horizon. Form the hill once can see they are small and rather close. Close to the shore they are casting or checking fish nets, or perhaps traps for catching eel. The waves or combers bring in some thick foam on the shore. Not of the kind Afrodite was born of but oily, bad looking. The sun warms, but the wind bites almost harder than at night, pinches, hurts the face. The spring is only nascent.
Sunday 11 April 2004 1 pm
The wind has turned further towards southwest, southwards, but is no warmer for that. A huge Viking line ferry glides past on the left. Only the cabin of the cargo vessel is visible. The zone of ice floes floating on the horizon a while ago is now crushed ice or sludge in front of the cliffs. The waves move it against the rocks like crushed ice in a cocktail. In the distance, some sails. Crazy people defying the cutting wind, longing for the spring, like me.
Sunday 11 April 2004 3 pm
The cloud curtain is getting thicker, but the sun is nevertheless shining through, while light. The wind is rising, now the waves rolling in on the shore have white capes. One sail is fighting the wind; birds are flying by. A moment ago a swan couple was moving in the water by the shore, now they, too, have moved to seek shelter from the wind. There are darker clouds on the horizon, while there are large patches of blue sky in the northwest. How can wind from southwest be so cold?
Sunday 11 April 2004 5 pm
The day turns towards evening before warming up properly. The sunlight on the waves is cold and white. The bluish clouds on the horizon promise rain; hopefully rain rather than hail or snow. The seagulls are still shrieking, although they have no reason yet. There are no nests or offspring yet, but soon there will be. Then one would hardly dare walk on the rocks.
Did the wind banish away the evil spirits of last winter? I don’t know. It did stiffen me, inured, too, I guess. I leave content to seek shelter from the wind on the mainland and wait patiently for the arming spring. Exhausted more than renewed: at home the spring cleaning remains to be done.